2033 Olympics Heavyweight Full-Combat: Fusillade versus Scattershot
Thu Aug 16 2033 Asteroid Belt Numerous asteroids float around you endlessly, a seeming infinite number about you as you drift in the void. An occasional mining station can be seen on one of the larger asteroids as you pass by it, and while the area doesn't seem that dangerous... the best route to the Gas Giants would be around, not through. Contents: Scattershot Space Going B-1R Lancer Asteroid Sit-Com comes in from the inner planets. Galvatron comes in from the inner planets. Redshift comes in from the inner planets. Repugnus comes in from the inner planets. The glare of sodium lights casts a warm orangish light over the intergalactic biergarten set up on the surface of Ceres, the largest of asteroids situated between Jupiter and Mars. Any number of wildly designed, open-cockpit craft are gathered to the side, all of them styled after motorcycles. The view is fantastic, the weak light of the sun almost overhead, the asteroid belt stretching up and away into obscurity on either side of the horizon. Beacons clearly mark a combat zone that will ensure that the battles, space or otherwise, will be in clear view of the patrons -- either by direct line of sight or by the remote cameras situated along the periphery of the three-dimensional, greatly extended, arena. Among the parked craft, a small orange Autobot shuttle is parked. Gathered around it? THE TECHNOBOTS. Well, Lightspeed and Nosecone are inside. But Strafe is doing a final check on Scattershot's rifle, while Afterburner spraypaints some pictures of Fusillade doing...well, awful things on the top of the ship. It's all very inappropriate. Trusty admin assistant Bottlethrottle is trying to go over a datapad with a HUD video of Fusillade in alt mode flight with SCATTERSHOT, who takes a final shot, tosses the glass over his shoulder, and gives Bottlethrottle a grin. "Ah think we're done doing homework. Strafe, hook me up." The smaller space jet Bot complies handing over his commander's weapon before wiping his nose. Slewing around the surface of a slowly tumbling asteroid, Fusillade emerges from the Trojan asteroid field situated in Jupiter's orbit, transforming and alighting to her feet as she settles down at the edge of the space biergarten, waving over a serving drone for a quick dip into her favored white high-grade shot through with av-gas. She takes a quick draught once it's served up. She flicks optics, keeping a sharp eye out for her designated opponent. "This is gonna be a scream, I don't really get to see him, ah, performing without the other Technobots ruining it," she remarks to a purple-skinned blob whose eyestalks are not directed at her face. Contrail is sipping down a warm shot of lithium in one of the bars of the biergarten, and she gestures for the bartender to follow it up with a cold shot of hydrogen, rotating her hand at the wrist. She has a bit of time to celebrate after her last match, right? A little 'bing' goes off in her head as a preset alarm reminds her that she is scheduled for judging duty, and her hand clenches hard on the cold shot of hydrogen. She swallows it down in one god, slams her shanix down on the bar, and kicks off. Manoeuvring jets let her land back on the rocky ground, and she takes off, bounding to make sure she'll make it to her assigned match on time. Contrail pull up the schedule as she lands on the edge of the combat field. Aloud (or on short range radio), Contrail reads, "Fusillade versus Scattershot?" With a clatter of treads and a diesel rumble, Blitzwing comes bounding up and crashes down next to Contrail, landing unsteadily enough that he has to grab onto a retaining wall. He waves an energon flask encouragingly at the contestants and yells over Contrail, "Let's get it on! May the best Decept'con win!" "Yayyyyyy that's me!" Fusillade hops back upright, and bounds back toward Contrail. "Hey, you're here! You and Boomslang totally squoze out that victory in the team match! I call tails!" She effuses, before giving Scattershot a big wave. Olympic time sure was a lot better than actual fights! Even if the shooting still hurt. "We totally scored the BEST arena for this! THis is gonna be fun!" She then squeals at Blitzwing's arrival. "Ahhhh! You're here TOO!" "Everybody's here! Lost track of Astrotrain..." Blitzwing mutters, looking around as if he might've just misplaced the other triplechanger. "...but he's around! Someplace." Scattershot steps into the center of the makeshift ring the circle of hot rod starcruisers has created. He eyes Contrail, and nods to Fusillade, returning her wave. A small Kwarch slug child grosses up to Scattershot, offering him a tiny toy blaster. "I believe in you, Scattershot!" It blathers with a cute baby deer voice. Scattershot takes the gun and grins. "Ah'll make sure to do some damage with it, kid." THe slug child gets big happy anime eyes and snots it's way back over to it's parents. He cracks his knuckles and waits for the coin roll/number toss. "I don't thiiiink Scattershot is a Decepticon," Contrail starts to say, "I mean, if he wants to defect, that's cool, I'm sure Motormaster can use more people to punch in the face, but I - oh, right. Heh-heh." She rubs the back of her helmet and looks shifty. Contrail pulls out a coin that has Tailwind's head on one side and his tail on the other. It is a trick coin, after a sorts! She waves to Fusillade, grinning! "Slag yes, you did!" GAME: Contrail rolls a (100)-sided die: ROLL: Scattershot rolled a 90 ROLL: Fusillade rolled a 20 Contrail frowns as the coin comes up with Tailwind's head, and she mutters kind of lowly, "Well, it came up Tailwind?" From inside the Technobot shuttle, a storage compartment bin shakes for a minute before finally bursting open. The small orange minibot rolls out and falls to the ground with a loud crash, stirring ever so slightly. "Ugh, this last time Wheelie and Groove party out." he complains, a bit hungover on whatever the Protectobot gave him this time. "But then again, Wheelie said that last time about the scout!" he giggles, stumbling out of the craft in time to see the participants line up for the match. Tottering up, "Is the bout to begin, I'm here to see Scattershot win!" "Better start tippin' that nib, because you're gonna have to write a few stanzas about disappointment!" Blitzwing chortles at Wheelie. Space Going B-1R Lancer continues gushing over the Decepticon presence, and just barely witnesses the coin toss. "Oh boy," she drawls out sarcastically, drawing one wingblade defensively. "So Scattershot, whadja do? -ORDER- them all to come along?" The sleek bomber rears up, wings collapsing onto hips even as the rear fuselage splits to form arms. The horizontal stabilizer slides up, the forward fuselage folds up accordian style, and Fusillade hops up on thrustered feet. Fusillade continues gushing over the Decepticon presence, and just barely witnesses the coin toss. "Oh boy," she drawls out sarcastically, drawing one wingblade defensively. "So Scattershot, whadja do? -ORDER- them all to come along?" Contrail looks at her schedule some more, wobbling slightly. Maybe staying stable in low gravity is hard. Maybe she's been celebrating too hard. Then Contrail announces, "This is Heavyweight Full-Combat. That means anything goes, except outside help. Shoot them, stab them, explode them - it's all good. And make it look good for the camera. As best you can." She looks over at Scattershot. "We're aware that some of the contestants have a deficiency in the beauty department. Complementary Guy Megatron masks are available." Scattershot steps up to Fusillade as Contrail talks rules. He grins at her when he wins the coin toss. "The top of the short list of 'Cons Ah'd rather have on our side. It'll be a pleasure punchin' you in the face. And yeah, they're here on orders. Except for Wheelie. He's a fan." He looks over to Contrail as the signal to fight is given. "Hilarious jokes? We ready to go? Sounds good." And then he jabs a punch into Fusillade's nose. Combat: Scattershot misses Fusillade with his Punch attack! Contrail puts her hands up around her mouth and hollers, "Choke! The beverage of choice for Technobots!" "Oh, what a whiff." Wheelie winces as Scattershot misses Fusillade completely, grabbing his head. "Where's Groove with that victory spliff?" he looks around, obviously a practioner of 'hair of the dog'. After a lot of convincing, the medics back at the Swordfish medbay finally allow Torque to view Scattershot's match against Fusillade today. With a displeased looking medbot at her side Torque takes up a spot beside the Technobot shuttle, bound to a wheelchair for now due to still being quite beat up and slowly healing. "You can do it, Scattershot!" The femme cheers, beaming and lifting her big mug of highgrade. Which the medbot immediatly swipes from her. She turns to protest, but the mech gives her a look which inevitably has her biting back her complaint and grumbling softly while eating a handful of Cybertronian style popcorn slathered in oil. A girly shriek escapes Fusillade as she escapes Scattershot's lovetap, parrying it with the flat of her pleated wingblade. She spins wide to get her distance, and sure that no weapons has been drawn yet, snaps her wingblade wide open, fanning herself a few times with it before plucking her goggles off her face and onto her forehead. Twisting toward the nearest cameera, she puckers at the camera. Her weapon turned shield turned display flag lowers afterward, and with a sly leer, she snaps her other hand upward, revealing her chromed Desert Eagle knockoff, and proceeds to shoot at Scattershot's knees. "Quit playin' around, and lets get into the field!" Combat: Fusillade misses Scattershot with her Always Double-Tap (Laser) attack! Contrail looks back at the various bars in the biergarten and squints. She wonders if she has time to go run for a shot of benzene without anyone noticing. Contrail frowns faintly when Fusillade misses and looks shifty as she says, "Fusillade must just be toying with Scattershot, giving him a false sense of security." Blitzwing has some benzene right here in his flask! "Eh, it's early yet. They ain't gettin' serious until things start exploding." Scattershot frowns as Fusillade dances away from him. "Eh, worth a shot." He sprints forward, as quickly as a bot his size can, keeping the gap between them closed. His optics go wide as he spots the sidearm but manages to duck the blast <> before diving at the Decepticon for a big tackle! "This *is* mah field, darlin!" Combat: Scattershot misses Fusillade with his Ram attack! "Boooooooooo, this is boring. More whiffs like that'll leave Wheelie snoring." Wheelie pouts, looking at the two triplechangers. Maybe they'll have something to help take the edge off, it's the Olympics afterall.. right? The scrape of thrust-vectoring heels can be heard as Fusillade tenses up, goading Scattershot into another charge. "Nyo-ho-ho! That's right, come at me!" She hops into the air, igniting her boosters with a flare of blue and cyan, leaving Scattershot nothing but exhaust to grab on to. "You snooze, you loose! And I meant it! If you won't do it, -I- will!" She transforms, the 147 foot length of her bomber form lagging in the air slightly before she cracks the microplanet's meager atmosphere with her full engine ignition. She whips around, and immediately lays down a spread of dumb bombs. Things will explode now. The question is: will Scattershot, still on the ground, be among them? Fusillade leans forward, wingblades whipping out to their full span, even as her arms lock backward in place as the rear fuselage. Her torso folds out to the become the cockpit of a Terran B-1B Lancer, ready for flight! Combat: Space Going B-1R Lancer sets her defense level to Aggressive. Combat: Space Going B-1R Lancer strikes Scattershot with her Bombs attack! "You should see Octane 'bout that," Blitzwing helpfully informs Wheelie. "He's got what cures what ails ya." Contrail heckles, "You can't hit the broad side of Broadside, Scattershot!" Then she throws a fist in the air and says, "Woo woo!" when Fusillade drops the bomb. Contrail eyes Wheelie oddly. Is he looking to get high? Scattershot yells a string of inappropriate words as Fusillade takes off, the faster Decepticon already finding her angle of attack... Scattershot throws his arms up in an X over his face as the first bombs hit, sending the crowd scattersing. Smoke billows up from the blast, the rumble of the explosion being overpowered by the blast of Scattershot's engines: the Autobot battlecruiser blasts through the smoke, sonic cannons blazing towards Fusillade with a return volley! Scattershot leaps to the air and transforms into battlecruiser mode. Lasers! Missiles! Cannons! Combat: Autobot Battlecruiser strikes Space Going B-1R Lancer with his Wing-Mounted Sonic Shell attack! Combat: That attack has temporarily impaired Space Going B-1R Lancer's Agility. (Crippled) "Yeah, that's more like i-- oh glitch!" Fusillade excitement over setting the pace for Scattershot fades as the well-placed shells pummel her airframe. The vibrations propagated from the sonic impact resonates, sending several stress fractures along her armor. "You peghead recepticle! That hurt! Ow, ha ha!" She dips one wing, microrockets along her fuselage puffing to rotate her in a mockery of atmospheric flight. She slaloms through a set of asteroids, setting a few between her and the Technobot leader. A giddy titter can be heard on broadband, <> She skulks back from the backside of a metal-heavy asteroid, setting on Scattershot's tail with more light weapon-fire! Combat: Space Going B-1R Lancer sets her defense level to Guarded. Combat: Space Going B-1R Lancer strikes Autobot Battlecruiser with her Bdoo! Be-dew! (Laser) attack! Contrail nods with approval and narrates, "Now they're getting into it!" but she has to transform and take wing to get a better view of what is actually going on. Flipping into a modified F-35B Lightning II, the sky is not the limit. Autobot Battlecruiser follows Fusillade into the field, spurred on by his hit- men right? They just keep hammering. <> Scattershot attempts an evasive manuever as Fusillade reveals herself, but the Lancer is just a bit quicker, riddling his side with laser fire. Scattershot has a distinct advantage, however: He pretty much has guns pointed in every direction. Multiple turrets engage, returning fire! Combat: Autobot Battlecruiser strikes Space Going B-1R Lancer with his Turret-Mounted Artillery attack! The battle peels far and away from the audience, but the projection screens set up on two sides of the space-robo-biergarten flicker to life with the story: Fusillade's strafing of Scattershot, which he returns in kind. The battle is intesifying in true competitive spirit, the ammo flung by Scattershot indeed finding its way into Fusillade's armor. The glossy white panels are marred, several smaller sections flying loose and rotating away lazily as she sheds the weight. The space bomber corrects, and makes another sprint, sleeking her wings back as she squeezes through two uncomfortably close asteroids. She transforms back to robot mode, quietly ticking off the seconds until she expects Scattershot to fall upon her. Once certain he is still pursuing, she waves up at him, and chirps out, <> in time with a angrily sizzling ball of plasma pitched his way. The sleek bomber rears up, wings collapsing onto hips even as the rear fuselage splits to form arms. The horizontal stabilizer slides up, the forward fuselage folds up accordian style, and Fusillade hops up on thrustered feet. Combat: Fusillade sets her defense level to Neutral. Combat: Fusillade's Plasma Caster attack on Autobot Battlecruiser goes wild! Combat: Fusillade strikes Redshift with her Plasma Caster attack! "Whoah, watcher head," Blitzwing remarks, ducking as plasma zings over his head and splashes all over Redshift. "Hope that guy's fireproof, heh heh." F-35B Lightning II declares, "No, no, that's fine! Shooting the audience is perfectly acceptable. The audience just isn't allowed to shoot back. Now... try to aim for Wheelie next time, maybe?" Autobot Battlecruiser weaves his way through the belt, finally coming head to head with Fusillade, picking up speed. She opens fire with her plasma casters, but a last minute asteroid forces them both to correct, the blast going wild and striking Redshift from the stands. The MUSH reality shudders for a moment as everyone's character applications would purge if he were to die. This time, it's Scattershot that pulls a strong positiion on Fusillade, bulldozing through a smaller rock to get the surprise on her, weapons systems switching to thermal blasters. Combat: Autobot Battlecruiser strikes Fusillade with his Wing-Mounted Sonic Shell attack! Combat: That attack has temporarily impaired Fusillade's Agility. (Crippled) "What the -- OF ALL THE TIMES TO REAPPEAR! Thanks a LOT, Redshift!" Fusillade berates, ignoring the unusual arc the shot had to take to even hit the trim space corsair. "Ah! Ah! Pinned!" Fusillade cries out as Scattershot bears down on her in a bizarre reversal of the typical Autobot-Decepticon dichotomy. The rock around her feet, AND her feet, get shredded by the, well, fusillade of rounds that Scattershot belches forth. "Owww! Gotta save my skinny aft!" She flings her torso open -- perhaps a serious design flaw in a firefight -- and lets loose an impossibly large missile from her chest! The rocket-propelled projectile sports and snarling Sharkticon face, with 'I may be fat, but you're scrap!' scrawled on the side. Combat: Fusillade sets her defense level to Aggressive. Combat: Fusillade strikes Autobot Battlecruiser with her Medium Range Missiles attack! "If you wanna save it you're gonna have to go find it first, cuz I don't see anything of that description around here," Blitzwing yells unhelpfully. "DAMN IT!" Scattershot goes ballistic when the missiles hit, slamming him into a nearby asteroid. He transforms on the rock, and pulls himself to his feet as Fusillade speeds away. He unslings his rifle, prepping for her next pass. "M'not fat, I'm big B-1'd!" Fusillade objects to Blitzwing. Scattershot unfolds into his hulk of a robot mode and lights an energon cigar he stole from Kup. Combat: Scattershot takes extra time to steady himself. Pass Redshift grumbles as he clmbers to his feet again, his face marred by black scorch marks. "You owe me a hot wax job after this, Fusillade!" He shouts, and stomps over to the bar to acquire a stiff drink. "Damn, those are some thick thrusters," Blitzwing asides to Contrail, swigging on his benzene flask. "Ooh, nice one." F-35B Lightning II is not next to Blitzwing right now, because she had to go chase Scattershot and Fusillade through the asteroid belt to make sure that Scattershot is not chugging roboroids behind Ceres. "Maybe so, maybe not. Coulda swore you two enerhol, got?" Wheelie inquires, leaning up on his tippy toes to try and get a view of the booze on hand. "Not for the likes'a you, Li'l Wheeln," Blitzwing replies, chuckling at his joke. "Nah, I'm just kidding, here you go." He tosses Wheelie the sadly empty flask. "See if they'll go for yer thirsty orphan routine up at the cantina." Blitzwing thinks the word for a bar in space is 'cantina.' The next long moment is spent with Fusillade waiting for Scattershot to come at her. She frowns a bit, before resholdering her wingblades. "Oh, now I get to seek. Hmm..." She clicks her heels together, and begins to move painfully slow on shaky thrusters to peer over the horizon of the asteroid, optics straining to catch sight of the riot of cream, red, and burgundy of Scattershot's paint job. "Awfully far away," she mumbles to herself, before hunkering down behind the rim of a crater, and gingerly lining up a long distance shot at him with her lower-accuracy, but delightfully long-ranged, plasma attack. Maybe it'd flush him out? Combat: Fusillade sets her defense level to Protected. Combat: Fusillade misses Scattershot with her Plasma Caster attack! Scattershot stares at the belt with a scowl on his face, waiting for Fusillade to come shrieking back. He spots the light of her plasma casters, leaping off of the rock and into space, transforming once again, unloading a mass of firepower in the direction of her attack: if he doesn't hit her, he'll tear down everything else in the area until she's got no place to hide. Scattershot leaps to the air and transforms into battlecruiser mode. Lasers! Missiles! Cannons! Combat: Autobot Battlecruiser strikes Fusillade with his Side-Mounted Thermal Shell attack! Combat: That attack has temporarily affected Fusillade's Accuracy. (Blinded) Catching the flask, Wheelie's grin spreads across his face like a flood. Then it's retracted just as quickly, when he sees there isn't anything in it. "Hey, whadda jerk. Put booze in here you space-clerk!" he chucks the flask back at Blitzwing. F-35B Lightning II jet-yawns and declares, "Does Scattershot ever run out of flash and glitter?" "Never said I was a Bot Scout," Blitzwing chortles, pleased with his simple, but mean, prank. He nudges Contrail. "Who's winning? I got distracted by the robokids wandrin' around." Fusillade doesn't seem to be ready for Scattershot's reprisal! She is caught off guard as he emerges from around the many numerous asteroids, the strobes associated with his weapons prompting her to raise her arm up ineffectually. She blorts out another plasma round from her caster, shouting up, "Bah! Blast you! Literally!" Combat: Fusillade misses Autobot Battlecruiser with her Plasma Caster attack! F-35B Lightning II is still not actually next to Blitzwing, but Thought-Contrail, the Contrail that Blitzwing may or may not be hallucinating in his mind, replies, "Fusillade's having a bad stretch right now, but they seem fairly evenly matched. Nice prank." Autobot Battlecruiser transforms, his mass change causing the blasts to pass harmless by, his momentum carrying him towards Fusillade, rifle in hand: "Sick of me already? Ah thought we were just startin' this dance." It's bravado: Fusillade is a damn strong mech- the Empire has clearly invested a lot into her and he's feeling it...system defenses winding down, energon low...Still, at least he can scar her up well enough to make sure she remembers the fight. He opens fire with acid lined ammo! Scattershot unfolds into his hulk of a robot mode and lights an energon cigar he stole from Kup. Combat: Scattershot strikes Fusillade with his Automatic Acid-Pellet Gun attack! "We's jus' a lil' bit past halftime!" Fusillade grins, displaying a snapped off tooth. The acid weapon lands true, and with a shout, Fusillade takes to the skies, truly stung as she tries to slake off the vitriolic compound. She transforms again, and slingshots out of sight behind a trio of dark carbonaceous asteroids. For a long moment, sunlight glints through the zodiacal light, lending a dreamy yellow-white haze to the chilly spacescape. That moment is broken, though, by Fusillade's bomber mode punching through in a sizzling path towards Scattershot. At the last moment, she veers away in a brilliant flare of rockets, baring her voluminous bomb bays -- and their still considerably well-stocked payload -- to Scattershot's sight before she flings off a half-dozen cluster bomb units at him. Fusillade leans forward, wingblades whipping out to their full span, even as her arms lock backward in place as the rear fuselage. Her torso folds out to the become the cockpit of a Terran B-1B Lancer, ready for flight! Combat: Space Going B-1R Lancer sets her defense level to Aggressive. Combat: Space Going B-1R Lancer strikes Scattershot with her Cluster Bombageddon attack! F-35B Lightning II narrates, "Oooh, acid! I bet that burns! This fight is /vicious/ - I like it!" and her commentary is relayed on a screen or two back in the biergarten, along with footage from her camera. For some reason, it keeps zooming in on Scattershot's cigar, though. Too slow. Scattershot curses his systems as he's unable to avoid the cluster bombs raining down on him, explosions ripping at his armor, taking him down to one knee. He spits energon with a scowl, looking up after Fusillade. "Big bitch must pay." He's in the air again, chasing after her: Scattershot's primary weapon activates (yeah the back wang), and he launches a massive folley of energy at her from his pulse cannon. Scattershot leaps to the air and transforms into battlecruiser mode. Lasers! Missiles! Cannons! Combat: Autobot Battlecruiser sets his defense level to Fearless. Combat: Autobot Battlecruiser strikes Space Going B-1R Lancer with his Megavolt Pulse Cannon attack! Those camera close-ups get a good look at Scattershot's wagging stogie as he mumbles and curses at Fusillade's onslaught. Once he activates the cannon, Fusillade experiences a thrill of excitement and fear, all rolled up in what organics would feel as a breathless nausea. <> she broadcasts only half-jokingly. The thrill of a drawn out battle against a single capable opponent is not something she's experienced in a long time. She makes the mistake of being concerned over the welfare of a vigorous opponent, and suffers Scattershot's discharge all over her belly for her trouble. "GAH! It burns!!!" she bellows out, audible to NO ONE in the space between asteroids. The bomber emergency-jettisons her smaller rear rotaty launcher to avoid having the munitions cake off, sending it tumbling out of bounds to be leapt upon gleefully by Sleezardo souvenir vendors. And then, she owns it. <> is belted out fiercely over local broadband, along with a cruise missile retrofitted for space operations. <> The missile complies, and despite being a slightly smaller payload then its atmospheric counterparts, it ptchoooooooooos to its target with programmed zest. Combat: Space Going B-1R Lancer sets her defense level to Fearless. Combat: Space Going B-1R Lancer misses Autobot Battlecruiser with her But Can It Fetch Astro-Newspapers? attack! Every now and then, something genuinely surprising happens: For instance, Scattershot finds it in him to avoid that cruise missile. He guns what he's got left into his engines, closing the distance, smaller weapon arrays locking on, and firing! He ain't out yet. Combat: Autobot Battlecruiser misses Space Going B-1R Lancer with his Full-Auto attack! <> she blorts out another tremendously sized cruise missile. Combat: Space Going B-1R Lancer sets her defense level to Fearless. Combat: Space Going B-1R Lancer strikes Autobot Battlecruiser with her Space-Bunker Buster! attack! Combat: Autobot Battlecruiser falls to the ground, unconscious. Autobot Battlecruiser just yells in response to Fusillade's taunts. Angry. Desperate. And then there's a big explosion. Scattershot unfolds into his hulk of a robot mode and lights an energon cigar he stole from Kup. Scattershot has disconnected. F-35B Lightning II flies past the explosion, trying to image the remains of the cigar if Scattershot is still awake. She starts the countdown, "FIVE. FOUR. THREE." The sleek bomber rears up, wings collapsing onto hips even as the rear fuselage splits to form arms. The horizontal stabilizer slides up, the forward fuselage folds up accordian style, and Fusillade hops up on thrustered feet. "Woooha! Got all you Autobots in check! This calls for a victory toast!" Blitzwing whoops and tries to take another swig from his flask, but finds it empty. "Huh, pranked myself." Fusillade travels to her best approximation of the center of the explosions blossom, and then mocks a bull-ridin' pose on Scattershot's carcass. "Wake. Up." She hisses to him, "We gotta sign up for the team heavyweight, this was awe-someeeeeeeeee!" She then resumes gloating and posing for the paparazzi. "...TWO. ONE. Aaaaaand Fusillade, the Executrix, the Joan Holloway, reigns supreme, the winnah and victor of this heah fight!" the F-35 declares, and Contrail transforms and claps for Fusillade. In a transformation that is harder than it looks, Contrail rises up into robot mode. "Maximum 'gratulations!" Blitzwing exclaims, swooping by overhead in his jet mode. "Drinks are on Octane!" "Yayyyyyyyyy" Fusillade says about drinks, not realizing that Octane may have different ideas. Would it really make a difference? Likely not. She chases after Blitzwing, zipping past Contrail who may or may not be nearby. "That was awesome!" she repeats, before an entire tailslab falls off and floats away. "Urrrrrr... right, tent time." She makes her way to the officiants, and languishes atop the Gal-Axy mascot while waitinf for service. Contrail collects that tailslab before the souvenier scalpers can and deposits it next to Fusillade. She suggests brightly, "Just forge Scattershot's signature while he's out." "I... think I will!" Fusillade replies with a wicked grin. = 2033 Olympics Message: 37/16 Posted Author HW Full: Fusillade vs Scattershot Thu Aug 16 Contrail ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ In a close, brutal fight full of enough explosions to do Michael Bay proud, Fusillade wins.